Behind All the Glamor of K-Pop from a Teen's Perspective

K-pop is now officially everywhere. Even if you are someone who doesn’t know much about it, you probably have heard the names of groups such as BLACKPINK, BTS, or Stray Kids. Those groups are more than just pop groups, they are a full identity to each of the idols in them, a full set of personality and empire, that takes over fans’ social media feed, music feed, and also part of their wallets. But what’s behind all of the glamor on stage? Is there anything else the companies or idols are hiding from us that we don’t know yet?

K-pop is no longer just a music genre, it has transformed into a full global cultural phenomenon. When people think about K-pop or their favorite idols, it’s not just the music that comes to mind, but the brands their idols are working with, the amount of social media followers, photocards, and a lot more. According to the Korea Foundation, K-pop fans have grown 24 times within the past 11 years, from over 9 million in 2012 to 225 million in 2023. This has become a part of Gen-Z and Gen-Alpha culture, a sensation that stretches far beyond music.

So how did it become an empire? This is because it is designed to be a full system of trainees, music, choreography, fashion, fan communities, personalities, merchandise, and social media. One idol is not just an artist, they are a complete brand. So what makes them those identities and personalities? The companies. Major companies in the k-pop industry include HYBE (the company behind ILLIT and CORTIS), YG Entertainment (the company behind BLACKPINK and BABYMONSTER) and SM Entertainment (the company behind Aespa). These companies create a complete cycle that fans discuss around, such as auditions, training systems, music production, marketing, concerts, global expansion. This cycle not only gives chances for fans to consistently discuss about emerging groups and potential stars, but companies also use this as a stable source of income for them—the more trainees, the more groups, the more groups, the more fans and payments made.

With the rise of K-pop, other aspects of Korean culture are also rising with its fame in public, such as movies, television, games, and animation. The South Korea’s Ministry of Culture, Sports, and Tourism suggests that Korean cultural content exports reached approximately 13.2 billion dollars in 2022. This is connected to not just music, but a full ecosystem of streaming, social media, merchandise that comes with the albums, and global fandom engagement both online and in concerts and events offline. But behind the stage and glamor, one K-pop group’s success is strongly connected to years before their debut, aka the trainee system. As Jackson Wang has said in an interview, the system is very easy to get in, but also easy to get out. The companies need to ensure quality, so people come in and come out. People audition as children or teenagers, move away from home, train for years, to compete for limited debut opportunities in groups. The training is comprehensive, including singing, dancing, languages, media training, and physical appearance management (that sounds more like weight maintenance to me). The “dark side” of this industry is that for every successful group, there are many trainees who never debut, and the industry creates a small number of global stars from a very large pool of young hopefuls, as we can see in Dream Academy in KATSEYE’s case. Trainees enter the system young, and face intense schedules, uncertainty, financial pressure, public evaluation, and lack of privacy, but this system also creates incredible opportunities that places extraordinary expectations for young performers.

For me, the most concerning of the industry now is that idols that debut are getting younger and younger. I remember coming across this video online announcing the debut of a new girls’ group in K-pop, and the oldest member was born in 2006, and the rest are all born in 2010 and 2011. The same age as this girl typing behind this computer. Do they have enough time to prepare for their SAT? I don’t know. As for groups that have debuted, BABYMONSTER’s Chiquita debuted at 13 years old, UNIS’s Seowon debuted at 12, and NewJeans’ Hyein debuted at 14. The younger ages show younger performers with dreams coming true after hard work, but for companies, younger ages mean longer careers, more relatability to teen fans, and ultimately, more money. Think about it, if an idol debuts at 14, ten years later, he or she will only be 24. 24!!! That’s the start of some people’s careers. The story of trainee to debut to success creates more relatability and the idol’s personal growth becomes part of the story. I feel concerned because the idols are placed in the public eye at such a young age, and they are constantly being put under the pressure of needing to look perfect and be at their best state. Also, just this taking time away from their studies.

However, if I look at this from an athlete’s perspective, all of this kind of makes sense. Some athletes start to compete internationally at high schools or sometimes even before, and they are also spending loads of time training and devoting themselves in this sport, so it is just like the K-pop trainee system, but perhaps with a choice of being under the public eye more or less. In K-pop’s case, the teens have to constantly be perfect and sometimes change who they actually are to fit the company’s designed public image for them, which also places a major focus on their appearance as K-pop is heavily based off visuals, styling, and beauty standards. Teen audiences might repeatedly see highly curated images of other young people, which can influence their understanding of beauty, success, and self-worth.

What makes K-pop so powerful is its connection with fans, but that relationship can become complicated. Gen-Z connects with K-pop because fandom builds friendships, identity, and belonging, and for many Asian teenagers, K-pop is a source of Asian cultural representation. The close connections made between fans and idols through livestreams, behind-the-scenes videos, and fan messages on direct idol to fan apps like Weverse (developed by HYBE) are what keeps fans invested in the industry and the groups. This provides comfort and motivation for both fans and idols, which is a positive side of the business model. However, this can also create emotional dependence between both the fans and idols, and when the idol is on hiatus or dropping out of a group, this can make fans disappointed. Treating the idols as personal friends is also dangerous. Why dangerous? Because the fans don’t know the person behind the version of the idol created by the company.

K-pop is also producing less music, but somehow more monetization. Groups are releasing less albums and have longer comebacks, but their earnings come from tours, merchandise, advertisements, and fan memberships. Touring has become perhaps more profitable than you think, BLACKPINK has made over 163 million USD in ticket revenue from their Born Pink tour, setting the record for the highest-grossing tour by a female K-pop group. K-pop albums are made to collect, with different photocards coming with each album and each album comes in different versions too, so each purchase from a fan is doubling or tripling in revenue. This becomes a fan experience that’s more than just a product. This also shows that the culture around Korean pop is not even the music, it’s what connects with the idols’ identities and influence. The increasing brand deals K-pop idols and groups are doing might lead to over-saturation, but for the companies, it is the best way for maximum monetization within the lifespan of a group as we never know how long they last. For artists, all the above means less time to produce music, more performance pressure, and also becoming brands before musicians. Obviously, each musician has their own brand and their identity, but it is often built on top of their music first. To me, there is no right or wrong, if this is what the artists and idols want for themselves, then this is the best for them.

To me, K-pop is a win-win, because even though a streamlined method of creating idols might be bizarre at first, the idols get the money and exposure to the public with the help of the companies, the companies benefit from the groups and idols, and yes, some idols will only use the groups they debut in as a spring board for the rest of their career, but this still gives them initial exposure and fame that will save them a lot of time and effort later on.

So can we still love K-pop while questioning it? Short answer: yes! My analysis above doesn’t change my love for BLACKPINK and CORTIS. K-pop is not simply a story about music. It is a story about dreams, businesses, and an entire generation growing up online. The idol on stage is only one part of the story. Behind that performance are trainees, companies, fans, and millions of young people who are influenced by what they see. Appreciating K-pop does not mean ignoring its problems. Sometimes understanding something more deeply is the best way to appreciate it.